Saturday, December 25, 2010

shoot the partridge and eat the pears

I think Santa came last night, but you would really have to ask Mrs. Claus. (ba dump bump) But seriously, there was so many fat people with facial hair walking around here in red fuzzy pants it made it impossible to tell who the hell I had to bribe to get a drink, and who had the sack full-o-goods.

They say it's about giving, and 50% of those who told you that are good people and the rest are just greedy pricks. But either way there are too many kids, right now, all over the nation bothering the shit out of their hungover parents even as these words are typed, just held on the verge of hysterics and the sun hasn't even had the balls to show its face yet.

I never got to rush. I always had to wait. Being an only child, there was always only one of me to hold at bay and there ain't no paper-tearing till the coffee has been made, till your aunt's hair is done up, till the other guests get here, till all us 'dults are good and damn ready and until then you will wait.

But today I can see the yellow light peeking through the shades and I have a feeling not unlike the child of my youth, I am the first one up on Christmas morning. Maybe there is something fishy under that tree...?

Who wants a mimosa?

----------------

UPDATNESS:
Drinkin' never looked so awesome.


I may have forgot to put the top on the grill down, and the pork roast may have been "burning like a candle," but I refuse to be blamed. Merry Drinking.

Oh yeah, and Goldberg:

Thursday, December 23, 2010

SID 5 - The Rich Issue

Dedicated to the late Rich Schaaff with a moving piece written by Rich's wife, Julie.

Full of stunning imagery as always. Check it out.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Ummm, How Much?



8,136 Mustad Hooks mostly in the No. 1 and No. 1/0 variety. You really don't want to know how much I paid. Really, you don't.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

False hope

It is that time of year again - decking the halls and "the lights aren't twinkling, Clark," but the thermometer has read over the 80-degree-mark for nearly a week and my mind has warmed to the idea that maybe there is something going on down south.

Apparently the normality will come back from vacation tomorrow and my timing is impeccable as always. It's not that it is a bad idea, like that guy who parked his new Lexus over the line next to my truck, obviously oblivious to the constellation of door dings and paint chips and way too close to allow a man of my fortitude easy access to the drivers seat without a scene. That was a bad idea.

They are just a little lethargic, that's all, ain't gonna move very far for it. Gotta hit 'em in the nose, wake 'em cold bastards up a little. And don't forget the cognac.

Thursday, December 09, 2010

it is always the right answer even when it's wrong

Look what your mom got for me:


-Alex who now just has to learn to read.

Monday, December 06, 2010

If you haven't had the pleasure...


Rise Forms went live a few days ago. You probably want to go take a look.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Pike fail

If catching a fish was just a bonus, you wouldn't work so hard trying.

You would be able to list at least one other reason for the drive, one other destination that wasn't a body of water, either flowing or still, that was actually a planned part of the trip.

I can say that the trip was a success because we got to the destination, fished and came back but the fishing was a failure and I got my ass handed to me by the wind. Throwing a 12wt warm water intermediate line is like throwing braided steel cable when it is below freezing and the gusts keep blowing your line out of the stripping net. I didn't really plan on using it, but it was the only thing I brought that could push into the cold wall of air.

We will be back for spring pike for sure and at least now I know what the lakes look like.

Ice Coffee
Frozen man-parts at Ashurst Lake
A little poon-ice
Upper Lake Mary
Getting ready in the parking lot
Black and red didn't work, and nothing else did either.
A little ice on the guides
It's my fathers left-handed Galvin... I don't reel backwards.
With a couple pointers Kyle handles a camera pretty well.

I would like to thank Paul and the guys at Babbitt's FlyFishing in Flagstaff for the hookup on the hats and the lake tips, "If it ain't chartreuse, it ain't no use."

Good to know.

-Alex who at least now has a huge box of flies ready for next year.

Monday, November 22, 2010

last minute tune-ups

I heard the dryer running as I walked to the back of the house with a wet load of laundry in my arms. Kyle was kneeling down near the exhaust vent that pumps warm air into the walled back patio.

"You got much time on that load?" I asked as I approached.

"There is nothing in there," he said. "I am drying the heads on my flies."

I looked around the basket in my arms and saw he was holding something long and fuzzy up to the vent.

"That's kind of a waste, dontcha think?"

 "Well, we don't have a hair dryer."

"I have a heat gun."

"That will ruin the fibers," he said as he wiggled the flies in the hot air.

"You don't think that running the dryer on high with nothing in it to dry your flies is a waste of energy?"

He scratched his bald head and looked up, "Well, at least I am doing two at once."

...

vacuum dubbing
The truck is about half packed, and food items need to be bought but at least my floor is clean. I remembered to pack my ball warmers this time.

I feel ready, and the lakes wait about 5 hours away. I just hope the pike are still feisty enough to come out and play.

It has been years since I have been snowed on while fishing, and I am kinda looking forward to it.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Dropping Off Flat Tops

Driving north on I-10 in Alex's truck, dropping off some kitchen gear that was borrowed:

Kyle- Damn it's starting to get chilly, If we go on winter trips in the mountains and such it might be snowing, I think I better hit goodwill and other thrift stores to get some warm clothes.

Alex- Dude, you lived in Colorado for 2 years and spent time in the bone chilling winters, what happened to your warm clothes from Colorado?

Kyle- I got fat.......er

Thursday, November 18, 2010

some kind of a record

3/0 pike-glisi

As I pulled the table up to the couch and sat down I felt renewed and full. A few hours previous I dined on New York steak, sauteed vegetables in pasta with a creamy-parmesan sauce and shrimp scampi. It felt right for working with Puglisi fibers, and sipping a pino that may or may not have spent a little too long in a hot car seemed fitting... Aaron took all beer home so there wasn't much of a choice, anyways.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Head start round 2: and nothing on earth can save you now.

I could tell you that I was hungry and that would probably be the truth but at the moment I really can't remember. All it took was a mention in passing and I was moving for my keys... 

...and there is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of a McRib binge.

They brought it back. Again. And made a big deal about it. Again. Damn them. But I can't blame it all on the preformed patty, the bbq soaked onions or the pickles as I had already moved the vise out of the way and was reclining on the couch, but I am pretty sure there was a round two on the horizon but now I am not so certain.

A quick double-dose of cheap light beer is starting to bring me back around, but I still feel like some part of me may be slipping away and working its way south to fight the good fight.

The whip finish tool is just out of reach. If I could get to it, maybe I could use it to snag that pack of hooks and a bobbin. My finger tips tickle the thin cool metal. Maybe all is not lost. Maybe I can find the will to continue, string a few more together, pave my way towards preparedness with feathers and flash.

Andy Dufresne said that hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things... but he probably never ate at McDonalds.

Monday, November 15, 2010

A head start

I grew restless at the bench and that was good for nothing. My back was hurting and Señor ham-egg-potato-cheese beckoned from the corner where the woman knows that it's only "the green" salsa in the bag for this guero.

I saw the first one float by when the headlights kicked on lighting the brick wall of the carport. One is easy to deal with, but then there were two, then three. My God! How did they all get in the truck? I started waving madly grasping and groping to catch the suckers before they could feast on my flesh and I got one of the little bastards but as the dome light flicked on I saw that it was just a bit of schlappen fuzz. Damn. Things get strange sometimes and I had to get moving.

When you are not sure what to expect you need all the artillery you can muster. I may even be optimistic and consider this a head start.


But the burrito comes first.

There are pike that need to be caught and a hungry man is easily distracted at the vise.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

"You boys been suckin' any heads?" The Mayor asked. (not stupid john mayer, goddammit)

Good in the Gumbo Mumbo Jumbo, and even fried up in some hot spring-roll-on-cream-cheese action packedness.

Seined from the River Black and spiced as if the devil himself was on the guest list, the talented crew of the Whiteyville kitchen tear in, ripping thumb-flesh for your dining pleasure, and it's your turn to do the dishes, bitch.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween


[Update:]
I hate it when this happens...

Saturday, October 23, 2010

when in rome on a bass boat

When a fly fisherman is standing on a really nice bass boat besides a damn good bass fisherman who is catching fish after fish, there is potential for that fly fisherman to feel a little silly as he tries to explains that the cold is the reason his sinking line is so tangled. It is a chilly morning and the fly fisherman is glad he stuffed a pair of socks into his cargo pocket before heading out.

A bass fisherman doesn't understand when people who aren't catching fish say they are just happy to "be out," and the fly fisherman doesn't either. When you get picked up at 3am and are standing on the dock before the sun's even scratched his balls and had his morning coffee, you better catch a damn fish.

The bass fisherman nods toward the popper on the fly rod. "I can't believe something didn't eat that bug," he says as he slams the steel home into the lip of some weed-hidden fish, swinging it into the boat and tossing it back in the blink of an eye.

"That minnow looks great, I am surprised nothing has hit that thing," the bass fisherman says to the fly guy as his spinner bait entices another bite and the braided line takes little time to convince the fish that he might as well give up.

"Toss that thing right in there, see? Right where the tules meet the bank, there is always a fish in there." The bass fisherman says, and the fly fisherman does and sets the hook as the weed guard is pushed to the side and the hook passes through the soft flesh of a bass's lip. "Alright! See? That was worth getting up at 3am, right?" But you have to go to sleep to technically have 'gotten up', the fly fisherman thinks.

The cool morning air passes through the their hair as the 225-horse Mercury shoots the Black Hornet across the lake at speeds to make anyone used to rowing a pontoon quiver with shake his head in astonishment. There ain't no trollin' a bugger when you can get to spot "B" from spot "A" at 56 miles per hour.

"The number one rule when fishing in a high performance bass boat is to make sure the trolling motor is up before you take off," the bass fisherman says. "That, and to make sure there is nothing sitting out on the deck that will blow away." The fly fisherman thinks for a moment then looks around realizing that his Stripee is no longer sitting on the back deck when he left it.

The Black Hornet pushes on.

The fly fisherman sits on the back deck looking at the little mono loops tightly wrapped and glued around the end of the fly line, the other 6 feet of leader slowly sinking to the base of the submerged tree that defied the weed guard on his diamond hair minnow. It has been nearly four hours and the fly fisherman thinks about the numbers. He may or may not have another bass leader pre-tied. He may or may not have a minnow that looks as good as the one he lost. He may or may not have asked the bass fisherman if he could throw that spinner bait for a while. He may or may not have stuck a bass on that spinner bait. He may or may not feel one way or another about it.


Monday, October 18, 2010

Ninja fishing, without the fear of getting caught


Our buddy Jeff Witkowski (Happy birthday) and I went out for a little fly fishing in a area where old Divorced looking women like to harass us, But this time she couldn't, we were fishing without the trespassing!

Jeff likes Fly fishing, Jeff tried fly fishing, and Jeff succeeded!
On a few flies I tied today, Jeff manages to pull his first bass on a fly rod, Oh and it was hit first cast of the day, a nice 2.5lb bucket. Didn't manage to get a photo of it, he was more interested in the release and fight of another.


My main goal today was to catch the 30 or 40 lb. carp I saw the last time Jeff and I went fishing here. I carefully snuck up to overhanging mesquite trees that I know I have spooked carp out from before. First tree, nothing, not even a mud swirl. I take a close gander from the distance of another three who's leaves are slowly dropping in the lake from the slight gusts of wind. Trying to avoid the scattered mesquite pods that litter the ground, like a fat ninja, I almost step on a dried old bass head. That would have made a big crunch, barely avoiding it I see a swirl near a couple pods in the water. Finally a carp! Thinking that its not as big as my goal, I take my cottonwood seed fly and cast to it anyway. A quick false cast across my body I land the fly about a foot and a half in front of the swirl. I thought to myself "Perfect!" A fish hits it right away I set the hook and I loosen the drag on my Airflo reel preparing for a big fight. Damn its a tiny bass. Don't eat my carp fly little guy

The day goes on for me trying to spot carp, I see none, at all. So I decide to pack up the carp gear and hit up the bass a bit more. So fishing for Jeff's birthday and us hitting quite a few small bass, I think it was a great day!

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Returning the Lithuanian love

Every once in a while I get an email for a link swap that hits the spot. These dudes over at deaddrift.org seem like the kind of brood that FGFF could get along with.

Tequila, bushwhacking, man-camel-toes, sweet photos, and some pretty fishy behavior

Check it out.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

A boneedle in a jackstack

Mucho Jacks
What were you doing in there?
Thanks to Mike for pulling these off his card.

Friday, October 08, 2010

quality?

Have you ordered a shirt from our Zazzle Store?

If so, I am looking for feedback on the quality of the printing. I had to contact them to have a few things changed that I was unhappy about.

I just think the price is a little high for something that isn't going to look awesome, so if you are the proud owner of some FGFF gear, please drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Simon's package gets chummy


...in case you weren't paying attention. Best comment goes to Salmotrutta, "I'd hit it."

FYI - I have more of these Jager panties, so if you promise to do something funny with them I will send you one.

Uh, and you should totally not look at this side ball.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Why you shouldn't chuck bait


...a "long line release" is preferable.

Friday, September 24, 2010

lucky lucky lucky bastard guy.

1) Lucky lucky lucky bastard guy gets drawn for muzzleloader Antelope (hard to do) and blasts one.

2) Lucky lucky lucky bastard guy also gets drawn for early season bull elk tag (almost impossible to do) and on the first day shoots himself a 7x6 trophy bull. (estimated 340 point range)

then...

3) Lucky lucky lucky bastard guy still has vacation time so he decides to spend some time fishing on the Black River and snags a 30in, 13.64lb brown.

...loss for words.

Read story here....














Update:  local sources tell me that this fish was named "Bippie" and used to like to dine on bread and cold cuts.


RIP Bippie.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

distracted...


Sometimes you just have to go to war in the button aisle of the local craft store, and the random fly-tying-supply-foraging be damned.

Thursday, September 09, 2010

crappie way to go

The bass were hard on him, but they always said they were just messing around and the insults never seemed to get under his scales but today upon waking a smell led me to behind the tank where my flashlight beam revealed the horrible slimey, leathery truth. Maybe it was the shopping cart and the memories of home it invoked that finally pushed him over the edge and I looked for a note, but there was nothing.

The pumpkin seed seemed a little suspicious, and the catfish wouldn't look me in the eye when he was ignoring my interrogations but I don't have enough evidence to believe there was any foul play.

Saturday, September 04, 2010

Tarpon Vid

I finally got around to getting this together...

Monday, August 30, 2010

Stuff I am late posting from around the blog-o-sphere that you have probably seen elsewhere but I feel the need to post anyways with a stupidly super huge title

1.
"The Fishy Kid Three Months of Summer contest is ending on August 31st"

Uh, yeah... that's today. So you better get on that and gather up all your photos of the youngans kicking ass on the water and get them in before it's too late. (Tomorrow)






2.
Aaron Otto has put together another mag, and this one is for the kids.

Check it out.














3.
BloodKnot isssue #2. LMB, stripers, panfish, pike, sharks, carp, smallies... oh my.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

light the fuse and toss that bitch in!

Like a Elk in rut, the bass fly fisherman eyes go bloodshot as he pisses all over himself at the thought of the LMB quarter-stick-of-dynamite-in-the-school-toilet explosion. It's enough to give even the part-time fisherman a semi, and it is all the more sweet victory when the water level is too low to launch your bass tracker, you suckers.

I like foam.


This frog has a very dirty name. In Latin I believe it roughly translates to the 'puniceus sperma inflatio'.



Gatta throw some deer hair bugs, too.

Trimming the deer hair with a razor and not accidentally cutting the wings off is ideal.

The last tie Mr. Leed and I were out, I ninja'd a big bastard dragon fly out of the air with my 10wt (actually it was Leeds rod, but you probably don't care) for a closer inspection. The bass seem to have a hard-on for these things on occasion, so I figured I should tie a couple. I have yet to find the perfect wing material, so I guess Swiss straw will have to do for now.

For the abdomen I took to thin strips of 2mm foam and glued them together with a piece of 40lb mono between them, leaving enough sticking out to tie on the hook. Then I made the segments by wrapping with white thread. I colored it with a sharpie, and then coated it in 5-min nail glue. It was a little work, but you can bet that bitch ain't coming off or breaking apart if Mr. Bass decides to partake.

-Alex covered in urine with bloodshot eyes who has a test-and-tune scheduled for Monday.